An Eerily Yellow Tinted Journey

    There she waits, the young child, waiting so patiently, yet on the edge of grey itself. The cracks so prominent, yet only to those who notice. That morning was deafening, quiet for most of the planet, yet for the young, it was filled with their silent agony. She knew it was coming for she endured just the mild thought of it during the sun's slumber. Now, all she could think of was nothing itself. Nothing and yet everything. The elders were taught that this, the moment of nothing and everything, was to be their life. Was she fond of this darkness that shrouded her day after day? Was she content with what would happen to her if she traveled down the yellow road? Regardless, it was time for her to do what was prophesied just as those before her.

    She saw it. It overtook everything. So bright and beautiful, yet destroying everything in its path. The stars bowed down without choice, the ground shook in trembles. She could feel the icy stare of the world against her, yet nothing compared to the burden she put on herself willingly. She wondered to herself if one day this chaos would crash into her, changing her life forever. Did she want it to? Not really, but she would hope to flee from its captivity, even for just a moment. She saw it stop before her, waiting for her next step. She didn't think much about it, for it was nothing. Yet everything. She was overwhelmed by the warmth of her welcome. Would it have been better if it was genuine comfort rather than a mockery of her fate. She would never know. All she could do was wait, bearing the shackles of her future

Prompt: take a regular everyday action or experience and poetically enhance it. I chose to write about my mornings as I wait for the school bus.